


I'll Crawl Home

by sterlingstars



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Schmoop, bucky will always come back to steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 00:55:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4767464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sterlingstars/pseuds/sterlingstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes spent his life chasing after Steve Rogers. In and out of battle, in the streets, you name it, and he was there. It seems that even seventy years and a whole lot of damage aren't even close to stopping him. Time makes wounds, changes people and things, but some things... some things stay just the same. And Bucky? Well, he'll always come back to do his job.</p><p>Til the end of the line.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Crawl Home

Bucky Barnes was just a kid when he decided where his place was in the world.

In the streets of Brooklyn, his destiny came to him in the form of Steve Rogers, a scrawny kid with bruised knuckles, weak lungs, and a heart of solid fuckin gold. Hacking into his worn handkerchiefs, getting into fights he could never win, hands smeared with pencil and charcoal. He was all sharp knees and elbows, long thin finers, thick lashes, a smile that could light up the whole town.

Bucky was nowhere near as good as Steve was, even on his bad days. Steve had this thing about him that drew Bucky to him like a magnet, and ever since he cut in on a fight with Wallace Sherman in the third grade, they'd been attached at the hip. 

“I had 'em on the ropes,” Steve had said through his split lip, and Bucky didn't know what love was, at seven, but he was sure, later in life, that this was the exact moment he fell in love with little Steve Rogers.

It had been like that ever since. Bucky tagged along with Steve, following his lead and keeping him out of trouble. Well, not always. When they got together, Bucky and Steve had a knack for finding all sorts of trouble. They were both pretty good at doing things they shouldn't, bad at keeping their mouths shut, the usual. Poor Mrs. Rogers saw her fair share of bloody knuckles and angry parents, two wide-eyed boys dragged through her door by their ears or their collars. 

Bucky's life was spent chasing after Steve, but he didn't mind it. Besides, Steve was there with him, every step of the way, chasing after Bucky just as much. Two troublemakers chasing each other in a circle, Steve's ma always said. 

Of course, life has a way of throwing things out of balance, sometimes. 

Bucky, after chasing after Steve for nrealy his entire life, found himself falling off of a moving train, and down the side of a mountain in the middle of an unknown land. The last thing he heard was Steve screaming his name, and the world went dark.

Bucky Barnes was no more.

+

It seems that some things just never change. Even now, even after everything he had been through, everything he had become, Bucky found himself chasing after one Steve Rogers. 

At first, he ran. He didn't want to be caught- stuck on the edges of Bucky and the Winter Soldier, his mind trying to find a foothold in a solid personality. He left cold trails, melted into the shadows. Became the ghost he was made to be, and for the first time since he'd had full control over his own thought processes for more than a few hours, Bucky was a little grateful for some of the skills in his arsenal. He held out on them for a while, and he was pretty damn grateful, because it gave him the time he needed to start screwing his head back on right.

But, like all things, it didn't last forever. Bucky finally gave up the fight, and let Steve find him. It was the natural way of things. No matter the time or place, Bucky couldn't stay away from Steve, even if he tried. And he had tried- but as soon as his memories started coming back, there was no resisting. He remembered that kid from Brooklyn, with his bony, bruised up knuckles, and the way his eyes lit up so bright when he smiled, even when he was sick and Bucky had to force him to stay in bed. He remembered his laugh, the way he would scold him when he overworked himself on the docks to afford extra stuff for him, even though he had holes in his shoes or needed new gloves. 

The thing about Steve and Bucky was that no matter what, they always took care of each other.

So for once in his life, he allowed Steve to return the favor. Bucky spent so much of his life giving up things for himself, going without, sacrificing for Steve. And he never minded, not a single bit- but he wasn't fond of letting Steve give anything back to him. Back in the day, seeing him alive and happy was good enough for him.

It was time to change that, it seemed.

He'd been through all of it in his head. He ran through every possible scenario he could conjure, trying to give himself a semblence of preparation for when he finally came to Steve not as the Soldier, but as Bucky. Well, not completely. He was damaged goods- Hyrda had done a lot to ensure that coming back to himself wasn't going to be easy. But more or less, he was at least on the way to being Bucky again, and he was sure that was something Steve would be happy to see. 

And when it came, it hit him like a train. The look on Steve's face... Oh, Bucky would never forget that, for as long as he managed to live. That mouth of his, that traiorous mouth, actually trembled, his chin wobbling, and Bucky had to force himself not to fly across the room and pull Steve into the hardest hug he was ever likely to experience. He felt like he'd been knocked to his knees, and Steve looked like Bucky had proposed marriage or something. 

It all sort of took off from there. 

Once again, Bucky was in his rightful place. It wasn't easy. God, it wasn't easy. He was plagued with nightmares and flashbacks and insomnia. He went periods where he blacked out, retreated into the Soldier without even knowing. Sometimes, he found it nearly impossible to speak English, and found himself saying something to Steve in Russian, not even realizing until Steve politely told him he didn't know what he was saying. 

Eating was difficult. Sleeping. Talking. Doing... just about anything, really, was difficult. Bucky spent stretches of time awake, days on end, paranoid and frantic and half-starved because he could barely force anything into his mouth, every bite of food suddenly looking too much like the mouth guard they were fond of using over at Hydra. Certain noises scared the daylights out of him, sending him into panic attacks and frantic moments where he would grab the nearest object and intend to use it as a weapon.

And Steve. Steve god-damn Rogers, with the patience of a saint, was with him every step of the way. Not once did he ever hear Steve complain, and he never yelled at him. Never said anything about the knives Bucky always kept strapped under his clothes, always talked him out of his panics as gently as possible, never complained when Bucky didn't eat something he made for him. He was so gentle and tender, all the time. He stayed up a lot with Bucky on the uncountable nights when he couldn't sleep. He spent hours and hours just talking to him, filling in the gaps in his memories and just telling him how he'd been getting along out here. Steve told him about the Avengers, all the crazy shit and mayhem he'd been through ever since he came out of the ice. 

It was next to normal, really. If he concentrated real hard, Bucky could almost imagine they were back at their place in Brooklyn, talking about a wild night on the town. Almost. 

+

He forgot how much he craved Steve's presence until he was actually in it again.

Every morning, at five am, Steve slipped out of the apartment and went for his run, coming back in exactly one hour. Lightly coated in sweat, his hair mussed, clothes clinging to him like a second skin. He would grab himself something to drink, some fruit, and hit the shower. Bucky would stay wherever he happened to be and just listen as Steve went about his routine. He always found himself breathing a sigh of relief when Steve came in the door.

Hearing him move around the apartment, breathing, opening and closing cabinets, running the shower- he was there, and Bucky was too, and there was something so good about that. There was immense comfort in knowing that Steve was there and doing normal things, just... being alive. That was the important part, to Bucky. The solid reassurance that Steve was there with him.

He began to grow bolder, as time went on, and found himself making his presence known whenever Steve got up. He'd see him out the door for his run, and when he got back, Bucky would have something lain out for him to eat before his shower. It was small, but felt a little huge to Bucky; a quiet declaration of how much he cared about Steve, how even in this sorry state, he was still going to try and take care of him. 

Things progressed, and one morning, Steve offered Bucky to join him on his morning run. He'd stood there for a solid two minutes in shock, trying to process that this was something Steve actually wanted, before he gave a timid yes, and they were out the door together. It was... it was good. Better than good, really, and for the first time in a very, very long time, Bucky started to feel closer to his old self. Running just for the hell of it and not because he was trying to keep himself alive or hidden was actually refreshing, and he felt something loosen a little. 

It was still a little hard, being in public, but Steve was right next to him every step of the way. He kept pace with Bucky, and they ran together in sync, feet hitting the pavement in a solid, steady rhythm. It was good. It made Bucky feel safe. It was easier to forget the strangers milling around when Steve was next to him, the sound of his breathing steady and sure, their feet on the pavement ringing in his ears. 

When they got home, sweaty and loose, Steve shot him this stunning grin, and Bucky felt like he'd had the wind knocked out of him. His eyes were so blue, and his mouth was turned up in that crazy cute crooked grin of his, and that in itself was worth the initial panic he had experienced being out in the open that morning.

“I'm proud of you, Buck,” Steve said, a warm, gentle hand on his shoulder. “Thanks for coming with me.”

And God, he'd really meant it, hadn't he? His smile was so soft and warm, and he just had that look on his face that made him look almost like a puppy. Bucky had found himself cracking a small smile in return, and Steve's answering grin could have lit up their apartment for the next month, surely. 

While Bucky waited for his turn in the shower, he turned those words in his head, over and over. Steve was proud of him, and that really seemed to strike something deep in his core. He remembered, then, that this was something he was constantly grasping for, even before the war and all the bullshit that came after. One of the things that mattered most in this world to Bucky Barnes was Steve Rogers' approval. Apart from the man himself, that was practically number one on his list of priorities. 

And he'd earned it. Even in this state, even with all the things he'd done, Bucky had Steve's approval. And if that wasn't a miracle, then what was?

+

It wasn't long before he got right back to chasing.

The months of Bucky's recovery were long and arduous. It was, perhaps, one of the most difficult things he'd ever done. He had to open up old wounds, dig deep into himself, allow himself to be remade from the inside out... again. But it paid off, and Bucky found himself coming back into the person he used to be. Not completely. He knew that, though, from the beginning. There was no way he was walking out of this unscathed, and he knew he would be taking some damages.

But that was okay, in the end, because it was worth it. All of the struggling, all of the pain, all of it, in the end, brought him that much closer to where he needed to be, who he neded to be, for Steve. And for himself, really. 

He spent a lot of time talking to Sam. Sam, who had the some of the softest eyes Bucky had ever seen, who always made him listen to smooth r & b whenever he came around, who had a rich laugh and kind eyes, and who was the first person to extend the hand of friendship after Steve brought him home. Sam was an incredible guy, and he was also really, really good at talking to people who were fucked up. Like Bucky. Granted, most of the people he dealt with down at the va had never experienced anything quite on the same level as Bucky, but Sam still knew how to talk him through it. How to listen.

Sam told Bucky a lot of things- but perhaps the one that stuck the most was that before anything, he needed to heal for himself. Not even for Steve. He'd sat in Sam's office and listened as Sam told him that he needed to be selfish for once in his life, that it would do him some good. 

“Sometimes you gotta fight for yourself, man. You have to remember that. How can you save anyone else if you haven't worked on yourself? Sometimes you have to work on you first. And that's okay. So do yourself a favor and focus on yourself for a little while. We all know Steve ain't going anywhere anytime soon.”

And as much as he'd hated to admit it, Sam was right. He did need to focus on himself. Help himself for once. So he did. He took it slow, and it wasn't easy by a longshot, but Bucky soon found himself feeling better in a lot of different ways. Things were looking up for him, for the first time in seventy years. Some would call it a miracle. Privately, Bucky did.

With his recovery came all sorts of new things. For one, meeting the Avengers happened. It was... interesting, to finally see all of these people in person. While they knew about it, at least. After all, he'd come into contact with Natasha before, and she had the scar to prove it. He knew quite a few things about them, though some of the details got foggy as the programming within his mind deteriorated. It also helped that he tried not to think about it too much- Bucky wasn't too keen about having to explain to Steve that he was already rather well acquainted with his team. 

Besides Natasha, who seemed almost eerily at ease with Bucky, everyone else seemed to be more on the wary side. Which was understandable. They had plenty of reason to distrust and fear him, and he didn't blame them for it. It helped his case that he had some of his old charm back, and that he could now speak in English one hundred percent of the time. He also didn't panic when he was in a room full of strangers anymore, so it didn't take too long for him to let his guard down and relax a little. 

After an in-depth discussion and a week of indecision on Bucky's part, Steve moved them into the Tower. Tony had asked them to, said he wanted everyone in a central location. That it was easier that way. Bucky agreed, but was more than a little surprised that Stark wanted him as a houseguest. Although, he wasn't complaining too much once they got settled- he and Steve had an entire floor to themselves, and it was spacious and nicely decorated. They settled in quickly, and before he knew it, Bucky considered the place home. Though, if he was being honest, he could be in a box- as long as Steve was there, he was home. 

Things seemed to go even more smoothly from there. Bucky was still recovering, but he was in considerably much better shape than he had been all those months ago. And a month turned into a year, and Bucky felt like he was a new man. Tony fixed up his arm, he sparred with the crew, found an excellent friends in Natasha and Bruce, and overall was just... better.

It was, of course, far from normal. There was only so much normal that could happen in the Avengers Tower before things deteriorated and got weird, but that just became routine fairly quickly. It was.... home. Well and truly. 

His further recovery came with more new things- specifically, going on missions with the rest of the team. Much to his surprise, he only panicked during the first one. He found himself able to carry through the rest without a hitch, though, and that was one of the greatest parts of all this, in Bucky's mind. 

The time for being selfish was over. It was time to chase again.

And chase, he did. Steve, bless his heart, was ever the hero, and in his typical fashion, often dove headfirst into really stupid situations. And almost as if it were on an elementary schoolyard in Brooklyn again, Bucky was there to swoop in and take out a few bad guys on Steve's behalf. Sometimes the bad guys were robots, or scientists, but it was all the same- they were trying to hurt Steve, and, well, that just didn't fly over well for Bucky. More than a few sorry saps got their fair share of his protective rage for the dumb blonde man he trailed behind. 

But that was okay.

He rather liked his job. Chasing after Steve, patching him up after fights, and telling him how stupid he was when it was all said and done was a job Bucky did well, and with enthusiasm. It also helped that Steve liked to apologize with kisses, and a lot of the time, some very mind-blowing sex. 

There were still rough days. He knew from the start- damaged goods. He still had some wounds that were healing, some that would never heal all together, but that was alright. He was, after all, only human- no matter how many robot jokes Tony cracked at him. But it was good. He was okay. He was surrounded by people that cared about him, that looked out for him. He had Steve- Steve, who was there every step of the way, no complaints, and loved him so deeply and unconditionally that it made Bucky's head spin. 

Not bad, he knew. Not bad, at all.


End file.
